


A Long-Expected Reunion

by lindirs_gaze



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining, letter writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21722719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindirs_gaze/pseuds/lindirs_gaze
Summary: Bilbo decides to resolve some unfinished business in the Shire, and Thorin eagerly waits his return.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 11
Kudos: 123
Collections: Have A Happy Hobbit Holiday 2019





	A Long-Expected Reunion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tithen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tithen/gifts).



The door to his study creaked open, and Thorin looked up from the letter he was drafting. He smiled as Bilbo walked into the room and shut the door behind him.

“Bilbo. How has your day been?”

“Good, good.” He sat down on the other side of the desk. “I need to speak with you about something.”

Thorin set down his quill. Though it wasn’t uncommon for Bilbo to stop by and make conversation for a while, there was something different, almost nervous, in his tone. “Is something wrong?”

“No,no. Just something that’s been on my mind for a while. I thought now would be as good a time as any to talk about it.”

He clasped his hands on top of the desk, giving Bilbo his full attention. “Go on.”

“I’ve been thinking about the Shire. And I think I want to go back.”

“Ah.” Thorin felt as though he’d been doused with ice cold water, though he tried not to show it. In the months since the battle, he had tried his best to make sure Bilbo was comfortable in Erebor, that all his needs were met and he had good company when he wanted it. But it seemed Bilbo still had a preference for the Shire. He could hardly begrudge him that, even with the sinking feeling in his stomach.

“N-Not for good,” Bilbo hastily added. “I will most certainly be coming back. I do like living in Erebor. But, well, I left with the expectation that I was going to return. And I want to resolve any sort of unfinished business I left behind...and get a chance to say goodbye.”

Thorin sat back in his chair and relaxed slightly. If nothing else, he could understand Bilbo’s desire to find some closure with the place that had been his home for so many years. “It’s a long way back to the Shire.”

“Gandalf said he would accompany me there and back.” Bilbo gave a slight smile. “And I suppose I can ask for no better protection than a wizard.”

“Provided he doesn’t leave at unexpected times,” Thorin grumbled. “In any case, you do not need my permission. You are free to leave the mountain as you please.”

“Yes, but I wanted to talk with you about it anyway.” Bilbo raised an eyebrow. “It would be bad form for me to just up and leave one day. And I wanted to reassure you that I will be coming back.”

“Of course. I would not begrudge you this, but...I want you to be safe.”

“Gandalf said the journey will be shorter this time. Hopefully with less spiders and trolls and the like.” Bilbo gave a sardonic smile.

“Still, I could send a few guards with you.”

Bilbo shook his head. “Don’t worry about that. I know you’re going to need all the help you can get here.”

He was right. Although the reconstruction of Erebor was proceeding smoothly, the kingdom was still vulnerable, and heavily reliant on aid from the Iron Hills. Thinking as a king, it was wise to retain all the dwarves he could, but his heart was speaking differently.

“Whatever else you need, then. Food, supplies, a mount—you shall have it.”

“Thank you.” Bilbo smiled softly. That expression alone was enough to make any resolve he might have had melt away. If not for his duties as king, Thorin might have considered going with him. “Anyway, I don’t want to take up any more of your time.” He cleared his throat and stood up. “I’ll see you later, shall I?”

Thorin nodded and watched him disappear through the door.

* * *

Bilbo suppressed a yawn and lifted his quill to the paper in front of him. A belly full of hot food was making him sleepy, and it wasn’t helping that he was curled up next to the fire, but he had a letter to write, and he wanted to finish it before it was time to move on again.

“Bilbo, what is that you’re writing?” Gandalf asked, taking a seat in an armchair that was slightly too big even for the wizard. They were in Beorn’s house, enjoying a second night of rest before pushing onwards to the Misty Mountains. The skin-changer had been happy to receive them, offering food and drink in exchange for news of Erebor.

“Oh, I thought I’d write a letter to Thorin and the others,” he said. “They’ll be wanting to know how I’ve been doing.”

The wizard raised a bushy eyebrow. “We’ve only been on the road for two weeks.”

“Yes, well, a lot has happened since then.”

It had taken much longer than anticipated to say his goodbyes to Thorin and the other dwarves, between Dori pestering him to make sure that he was wearing warm enough clothes to Bofur trying to sneak him some extra pipeweed. It had taken several impatient hints from Gandalf for them to finally set off down the road. As they’d left the shadow of the mountain, Bilbo had found himself getting a little teary-eyed. He was certainly going to see them all again, but after months of traveling together, and living with them beneath the mountain, it was strange and a little disquieting to be leaving them.

After that, they’d taken the road down to Mirkwood, where a trio of elves had provided them safe passage through the forest. It was a short journey from there to Beorn’s house, which led up to the present moment.

Well, perhaps there wasn’t much that had happened since he’d left Erebor. But Bilbo wanted to write a letter nonetheless.

“They’ll want to hear that I’ve gotten through Mirkwood safely, at the very least,” he said, writing “Dear” at the top of the paper. That had been a point of anxiety for Thorin and most of the others, though Erebor had made relatively peace with Thranduil after the battle. “And Thorin says there will be a raven waiting to carry my letter to the mountain.” How the bird could possibly know where he was or when he was ready to send the letter was beyond him, but there were many marvels in Erebor that he had yet to fully wrap his head around.

_ Dear Thorin _ , he wrote, then paused. Of course Thorin wanted to hear from him, but so did the others. He thought about writing multiple letters, but quickly dismissed the idea. There was no point in penning thirteen different letters if he wanted to tell them all the same thing.

_ And Company, _ he added in the address, and began writing.

* * *

“...So, as you can see in the report, an export of jewels to the Orocarni should be most effective in boosting Erebor’s economy. We will need to establish trade with the region soon, anyway.”

“Hmm,” Thorin said, his head bowed as he focused on the paper in front of him.

Next to him, Balin cleared his throat and muttered, “The report, Thorin.”

“Ah.” Quickly, he shuffled the papers in front of him, putting on top the report the advisor had been talking about. “Go on, then.”

No one else in the chamber seemed to have noticed his slip up, and the advisor continued talking. Thorin found his attention to be lacking, though, as his thoughts drifted once more to the paper now sitting in the middle of the stack.

He treasured each of Bilbo’s letters that the raven delivered, and had read them all multiple times (once everyone else in the Company had a chance to look). It seemed Bilbo was in his thoughts even more now that he was gone, and Thorin missed him greatly.

By his count, he would be in the Shire soon. There was the possibility he was already there—it was a considerable distance for the ravens to travel while delivering letters, so there was always a little bit of delay.

At this point, Thorin could only hope his business in the Shire would go smoothly, and that he would be able to return to Erebor as soon as possible.

* * *

_ Dear Thorin and Company, _

_ I hope this letter finds you all well. Finally, I have reached the Shire and made it back to Bag End. I was rather dismayed to find everything in a bit of disarray, which I will further explain below. _

_ First, I received a number of strange looks as I was walking through Hobbiton. This was to be expected, as I did run off rather abruptly the last time I left, and I gave no indication as to when I would be coming back. As I was walking up the path to the top of the Hill, I noticed a few hobbits carrying various pieces of furniture. That was when I noticed that one of them was carrying my pouf, and another, my dining chair! When I reached the top of the hill, I found Tosser Grubb auctioning off my things, on the presumption that I was dead! This was no doubt orchestrated in part by my scheming cousin Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, as another one of her plots to get her claws on Bag End. _

_ I apologize for the brevity of this letter, but I am currently in the process of negotiating various pieces of furniture back, and making sure it all ends up in Bag End, and that Bag End ends up in the right hands. I am not sure how long all of his will take, but I will write again when I have finished my business and am ready to head back to Erebor. _

_ Yours, _

_ Bilbo _

_ PS. Thorin, you were right about Gandalf. He vanished soon after we crossed the borders of the Shire, saying he had some business to attend to, but seeing as I am unlikely to be attacked by orcs in Hobbiton, I was not entirely dismayed by his departure. _

* * *

_ Bilbo, _

_ I am grieved and angered to hear of the robbery of your home. Had I known your kin would devise such underhanded plots, I would have ensured that Bag End was more securely protected before we left. _

_ Erebor is in a much more stable position now, as dwarves have arrived from many different kingdoms have arrived at the mountain. If you are in need of reinforcement in your efforts to reclaim your possessions, I would be able to send a small squadron west. Dáin has gifted Erebor several war rams, which are able to travel fast. If you are in need of more immediate assistance, my sister still resides in the Blue Mountains, and would be able to reach you more swiftly. _

_ I look forward to hearing from you again, and hope that this business may be resolved quickly, so that you may return to Erebor soon. _

_ Yours,  _

_ Thorin _

* * *

_ Dear Thorin, _

_ I am grateful for your concern, but I must emphasize that military assistance will  _ _ not _ _ be necessary. It has taken quite a bit of bargaining, but I was able to retrieve most of my belongings, and have given Bag End to my cousin Drogo. I trust that he will look after the house, and that he and his wife will happily raise a family there. I only have a few more loose ends to tie up, and then I shall be ready for the return journey. _

_ I am eager to return to the mountain, and to see you and everyone else again. _

_ Yours, _

_ Bilbo _

* * *

“He should be here in another three weeks, if my count is correct.”

Balin looked up from the stack of paperwork in front of him. “What’s that?”

“Bilbo.” Briefly, Thorin touched the letter stowed away in his pocket, the most recent one he’d received. He’d put it away in favor of looking over some construction proposals, but anticipation was glowing in his chest. It had been months, now, since Bilbo had been away, and he’d found his spirits growing lighter ever since he had confirmed that he’d left the Shire.

He glanced up as Balin began to chuckle to himself. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re reminding me of the lads, is all. I remember when Kíli was smitten with that lass, Arís, and he would sit there for hours during his lessons, staring into space…”

Thorin scowled, even as heat began to rise on his face. “I am only concerned for his safety. It is a long road from here to the Shire, and we both know how dangerous it can be.”

Balin only smiled, a mirthful twinkle in his eyes. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. Bilbo will be at the gates before you know it.”

“Aye.” Thorin straightened. “ _ Muhudtuzakhmerag  _ will soon be upon us. Bilbo deserves a proper welcome. A celebration.” He stood, a spark of inspiration igniting in his mind. “We have the supplies, now, for a proper feast. But only three weeks to prepare…”

“I suppose you’d better get started now, then.” Balin raised an eyebrow. “The mountain could certainly use a morale boost.”

“Aye.” Thorin headed for the door, the unfinished letters forgotten. “There is much to be done.”

* * *

One day. That was all that stood between him and Bilbo’s return to Erebor. The letters between them flowed more frequently as the distance of their separation shortened. Bilbo had just informed him that he’d reached Lake-town, and that he was spending the night there before making the final stretch to the mountain.

Erebor itself was in a flurry of activity. The kitchens were working nearly full time to produce a variety of food for the feast, as part of  _ Muhudtuzakhmerag _ . There would be the finest musicians in the Seven Kingdoms. Thorin had commissioned several craftsmen to create decorations out of metal wire and jewels, since it was not yet warm enough to gather any flowers. Even so, the celebration was meant to herald the first days of spring. Thorin thought it fitting, almost—the coming of spring, of new life and warmth, coinciding with Bilbo’s arrival.

It had been a busy few weeks, taking on organizing the feast along with his other duties as king. Balin had suggested more than once that someone else be appointed to managing the celebration, but Thorin wasn’t sure he trusted anyone else with the job. Everything, down to the last detail, had to be perfect.

Thorin consulted his mental list. He was still waiting on confirmation that they’d received an extra shipment of wood from Dale. With the large, roaring fire he planned to have set in the center of the hall, they would need more of it than usual.

“Thorin.” Glóin intercepted him as he headed down the hallway to check on the hall where the feast was to take place. “There’s someone waiting to speak to you.”

He frowned slightly. “Is it about the ale shipment?”

“No, it’s one of the foreign diplomats, actually. Said he had something important to discuss.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “He’s waiting in the meeting room next to the council chamber.”

Thorin nodded. “All right. Thank you.”

He changed directions, heading towards the meeting room and wondering who it was that was waiting to speak to him. Perhaps it was the envoy from the Iron Hills—they still had much to discuss regarding trade routes between the two kingdoms. Or perhaps it was the dwarf from the Orocarni, back with another marriage proposal for one of his nephews.

He pushed open the door, finding the room to be strangely dimly lit, and stopped short.

Bilbo was standing by the table, where two lit candles had been placed. He gave him an almost nervous smile, hands clasped behind his back.

Thorin blinked, taking him in. The candlelight glinted off his curly hair, bringing out the coppery shine that had always entranced him. He looked travel-worn, the dust of the road still on his skin. He must have arrived very recently. “How did you— When—”

“Only about an hour ago.”

Thorin was still frozen to the spot. “I thought you weren’t going to arrive until tomorrow.” More than that, he’d asked the guards at the gate to notify him at once that Bilbo was here.

“Yes, well, it turns out I still had a bit of daylight left, so I decided to finish the journey today.” Humor was beginning to replace the nervousness on his face. “And I came in through the secret door. Didn’t want anyone to know I was coming through.”

“How did you know…”

Bilbo laughed, the sound like a burst of sunlight. “Really, you weren’t the only one writing letters to me. As soon as I found out what you were planning, I thought I’d come up with a surprise of my own.”

Thorin fully intended to find out who it was that had given away his plans, but for now, having Bilbo  _ here _ , in the same room after months of separation, was far more pressing. As his shock faded, he was finally able to cross the room and reach out for him.

Bilbo leaned into his embrace like he’d been made for it. Thorin pressed his head against Bilbo’s, reveling in their closeness, and whispered, “I missed you.”

Bilbo tightened his grip on Thorin’s waist. “It’s good to be home.”

After a while, Thorin pulled back so he could look him in the eye. “So, you have been quite effective at surprising me. But I do hope you will participate in the feast tomorrow. It was meant for you, after all.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want all that effort to go to waste.” He drew back slightly. “I only planned this all out because, well, I wanted to have a bit of a private moment with you. It’s a bit hard to get that in a crowded room.”

Thorin noticed for the first time that next to the candles on the table was a bottle of wine and two glasses. His heart skipped a beat. “And what did you mean by private moment?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse all of a sudden.

“I suppose that depends on…” Bilbo swallowed, looking slightly nervous again. “It depends on a few things. I was thinking I could tell you a bit about my journey, and ask you about Erebor. And afterwards…”

Thorin stared at him. While planning out the feast, he had imagined that Bilbo would be happily surprised, that they would sit together at the front of the room with goblets of wine, and he would be able to show every dwarf under the mountain how incredible his friend was. But at the moment, he was quite glad it was only the two of them, and that he’d closed the door behind him when he’d entered.

He took a step forward and placed his hands on Bilbo’s waist, gently enough that he could pull away if he wanted to. “There is still much I have to do to prepare for the feast...but I would be more than happy to take advantage of this moment.”

Bilbo looked up at him, looking slightly breathless, then put both hands on the back of his neck and leaned up to kiss him. Thorin pulled him closer, both arms winding around his waist, and held him close. They spent a blissful moment wrapped in each other’s arms, and then several more, until Thorin finally forced himself to pull away. He still had duties to attend to as king.

He lifted Bilbo’s hands and pressed his knuckles to his lips. “I will see you at the feast.”

Bilbo smiled up at him, his eyes shining, and the sight nearly crumbled Thorin’s resolve. “I’ll see you then.”

And the next night, they snuck out from the feast early with a bottle of wine, and traded stories and kisses until the candles had burned low.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Credit to the Dwarrow Scholar for the name/information on Muhudtuzakhmerag.
> 
> I apologize for the brevity of this piece, it's been a really hectic semester and I was struggling a bit with this one. I hope you all enjoyed it though!


End file.
